'Delirium' is sophisticated but tedious

By KELLY HUFFMAN, SPECIAL TO THE P-I

Updated 10:00 pm, Wednesday, October 4, 2006

Watching Cirque du Soleil's "Delirium" is like stepping inside a sophisticated, but ultimately tedious, music video.

Look past the spectacle and you can't help but notice: the music (remixed from the troupe's past productions) simply can't carry the show. Robbie Dillon's lyrics are unforgiveably banal, and set to instantly forgettable tunes originally created by Rene Dupere, Benoit Jutras and Violaine Corradi.

Creative directors Michel Lemieux and Victor Pilon fill KeyArena with Cirque du Soleil's trademark technical wizardry. Towering projection screens flank (and sometimes envelop) a two-sided, 130-foot stage that bisects the arena. A floating balloon -- from which a man hangs suspended for most of the show -- changes color in mid-air. Giant people (they're projections) appear to walk across the edge of the stage, pausing to wonder at the proceedings.

A handful of acrobatic acts is sprinkled throughout "Delirium." Aerialists wrapped in fabric descend from the heights like tent caterpillars. Four muscular Ukrainians take turns at playing human trampoline. But the aerialists tend to get lost behind the projections (red blood platelets, waving arms, butterflies) and the hand balancers compete for attention with squadrons of dancers and musicians.

There are a couple of happy departures from the monotonous musical lineup. An African-influenced number inspires a jaw-dropping dance solo. Women in outsized headdresses (a cross between Carmen Miranda and Dale Chiluly's wiggly seaforms) lead a Latin-flavored tune while suspended over the stage. One singer's billowing, 50-foot skirt morphs into a projection screen, then a tent out of which more dancers wriggle to life.

There's no shortage of arresting visual imagery in this Cirque du Soleil songfest. But no matter how it's dressed up, the irksome score turns "Delirium" into a case of "ad nauseum."